


Saturday Morning

by CoryHolmes



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Cute, Fluffy, Gen, I need cute things in life, Sugary sweet, so I made my own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoryHolmes/pseuds/CoryHolmes
Summary: Trish Walker had gotten used to Jessica Jones showing up in her doorway while drunk.  Late night, early morning, whatever.  Trish hated that Jess chose to self-medicate with alcohol, but none of Trish's arguments had been appreciated.  But Jessica showing up at 3am on a Saturday morning while stone-cold sober?  That one was new.





	Saturday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> A sort of blink-and-miss-it sequel to my earlier fic, Friday Night. Don't have to read it to understand this one, but it is appreciated!

Trish Walker had gotten used to Jessica Jones showing up in her doorway while drunk. Late night, early morning, whatever. Trish hated that Jess chose to self-medicate with alcohol, but none of Trish's arguments had been appreciated. But Jessica showing up at 3am on a Saturday morning while stone-cold sober? That one was new.

Trish tried to glare at Jessica as the raven-haired woman stomped through the threshold, but just couldn't. They'd been through too much together, and Jessica had been Trish's salvation when they were teens and still under her mother's thumb, to stay mad at each other. Besides, Jessica hadn't given up on Trish despite her drug addiction and hadn't given up on her when she was trying to get and then stay clean. So Trish would just suck it up and deal with whatever Jessica was up to.

The last few months had been good for Jessica, despite all the horribleness with Kilgrave's return. But Jessica had prevailed in the end, and even managed to secure herself a kinda-sorta-maybe boyfriend in the guise of one Luke Cage. Trish had met Luke a few times and instantly taken a liking to him, agreeing that he was every bit the good man that Jess had described. 

Some formalities were still required though. “By all means, come on in,” Trish said to the empty space in the hallway that Jess had recently vacated and heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “I know its early but that's fine.” Closing her security door, Trish finally looked at Jessica and saw her pacing back and forth in the kitchen. Curious. Trish tightened the sash of her robe and followed her sister inside.

Jess paced like the tile needed a hole in it, back and forth in front of the island. Her hands were jammed into her jacket pockets. She'd occasionally glance up at Trish, open her mouth to say something, then close it again and resume her pacing. Trish covered a yawn with the back of her hand, then got tired of waiting Jess out. “Well? What's so important?”

Instead of answering, Jessica just seemed to pull away from Trish and muttered under her breath. Trish rolled her eyes and grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge. “What's up?” Trish tried again, doubt creeping into her mind. Is there anyway Kilgrave could have cheated death a second time and survived? Maybe it was Will, finally coming back from wherever he'd disappeared to? Either possibility made Trish's heart pound for a moment, then she calmed herself. No, that couldn't be it. Jess would've said it as soon as she'd come inside, or just started tossing the apartment while looking for evidence.

The apartment remained un-tossed, so Trish figured it wasn't a life or death situation. Which didn't narrow down the reasons for her sleep being disturbed either, so Trish went back to waiting on Jess. Jess, for her part, glanced up at her through her dark lashes and seemed like she was about to say something when Jess suddenly looked away and seemed to get very interested in the paint on the living room wall.

Silence stretched longer. Trish waited and Jess fidgeted. Which was odd, since Jess hadn't really fidgeted since they were teens and had worked hard to kill that habit after Trish had taken a liking to mocking her for it. It wasn't Trish's fault, not really. It was just so much fun to get Jess wound up until they were both laughing hard enough to forget the dark circumstances that had brought them together. Hey, that still sounded like fun...

Trish clicked her nails on the stone slab that was her kitchen island. The sharp noises echoed in the room and Jess cut her eyes to the source. Trish stilled her fingers for a moment, then resumed clicking her nails even harder. Trish raised a brow at the look Jessica directed towards her but didn't cease her aural assault. “What's going on?”

“Um.” Okay, so it was less of a word and more of a noise, and nowhere near an actual explanation, but it was the first noises Jessica had made since she walked inside the room. Progress, yay.

“Um, what?” Trish prompted. Wrong move, since Jess immediately clammed up. Her chin dipped lower until it rested on her chest, her face shrouded by a curtain of black bangs.

“Mmph, uggle yarghl hmph.” Jessica spoke into her chest, nothing intelligible that Trish could understand.

“What was that?” Trish asked, happy with more progress but also more frustrated than ever. Dammit, what was going on?

“Huuke sasst me foo mu- muphppy hurk.” 

Back to that, then. Joy. Trish's patience finally ran out and she heaved a real sigh. “Okay, look. I'm gonna go sit down until you decide to tell me what's going on.” Trish grabbed her water bottle and stomped into the living room and sank into the couch. Her mother always harshly punished her when she flopped onto the furniture (“Remember when we couldn't afford to replace it? That doesn't change now!). Now that she owned the couch, Trish could mistreat it as much as she wanted but just couldn't bring herself to do it. Another habit that she couldn't shake from her mother, dammit.

But her anger evaporated the moment she looked up at Jessica. Jess had been with her through the worst of her mother's abuses, the worst of her drug addiction, and the worst of her recovery. There was no way she wouldn't be there for Jess, even to the end of the world. Taking a deep breath, Trish counted to five and then blew it out. Slowly, as if wading through water, Jess came into the living room and sat down on the other end of the couch. Trish lifted a brow, then waited. And waited. And waited.

Jess opened her mouth and seemed ready to say something, when she suddenly spotted the bottle. Her right hand shot out of her jacket and snatched it up. “Wait Jess, that's wa-!” Trish cried, but was cut off by Jess thumbing the lid off, lifting it her lips, and chugging the whole thing empty. “-ter,” Trish finished lamely. Well it was liquid in a bottle, so probably close enough for Jess. Speaking of...

Trish looked at Jess closer in the city light streaming through the window door leading to the balcony. She looked off. Her hand was trembling slightly, her breathing looked fast, her skin a little less pale. “When was the last time you had a drink?”

“Uhh...” More nonverbal answers. “Twenty hours ago?” Was that a complete sentence? Close enough! Progress, yay! Then the words themselves registered in Trish's mind.

“What? Why?”

“Luke... make me promise to be sober for a whole day.” The words were slow, dragged out with great reluctance but that was even more progress.

“Not that I'm going to complain, but why would he do that?”

Jess instantly clammed up again, her whole body seeming to close in on herself. Dammit. “Look... just... just promise me that you're not gonna do the squeaky thing.” Trish blinked in surprise, her thoughts completely derailed. Trish hadn't done the squeaky thing in years, not since the last time Jess had mocked her for it (Trish had retaliated with a pillow to the face, Jess tore the pillow free with her super strength, and then the battle was on).

“Uh, okay? I promise I won't do the squeaky thing. Now tell me what's going on.” Jess took a few deep breaths, then a few more deep breaths, then casually crushed the empty water bottle in her hand. “I swear, I won't do it. Now spill it! Right n-!”

Jessica Jones cut her off by pulling her other hand out of her pocket and showing it to Trish Walker. At the sparkling, pretty diamond ring now adorning her left hand, third finger down... “Luke asked me to marry him today, and I said yes.”

Trish didn't even try to hold back the squeaky thing. She sucked in a full lungful of air in a high-pitched gulp that rose ever higher in tone, clapped her hands over her mouth to try to muffle it, then blew it out in an even higher-pitched squeal. The windows rattled and the crystal chandelier resonated with the frequency, but mercifully her voice failed her before they could shatter.

(Not really, since Trish actually hit the ultrasonic range beyond normal hearing. She made the neighbour's dog start barking and scared the shit out of Matt Murdock almost nine blocks away.)

“Dammit, Trish! You promis-!” Jess was cut off this time by Trish springing from her seat on the couch, lunging at Jessica, wrapping her arms around her and squeezing in a tight hug. Jessica's earlier reluctance to speak seemed to dissapate and all the pent-up words came tumbling out and sounded a little something like this: “Oof! Ow! Jesus Christ, Trish. I need to breathe! Hey, enough of that! Trish. Trish. Trish! Air!” Finally getting her arms free, Jess wedged her hands between her sister and pried herself free. “Off!”

They stood in the living room and just looked at each other before Trish grabbed Jessica's hand and dragged her back into the kitchen. Or at least, dragged her hand. “Ow! Jesus, Trish! That's my arm you're yanking on!”

“I wanna see it!” Finally getting some good light, Trish turned her sister's hand over and over, watching the play of light as it reflected off of the facets in the diamond. It was so pretty! “This is so awesome, Jess! It makes such pretty colours!”

“Yeah, but it's still attached to my hand and that part's not so flexible. Ease up before you break something!”

“You'll heal!” Trish shot back, twisting again to see the play of light bounce off the ring from the underside. It really was so pretty. It was a small diamond, set in a simple thin gold band that gleamed against Jess's pale skin. Luke had made the perfect choice, not so large and gaudy that Jessica would hate it but also elegant enough that it brought a touch of class to Jessica's normal outfit of torn jeans and beaten leather jacket. “This is so pretty, Jessica. So perfect.” Trish realized that she'd only been gushing about the ring. “I'm so happy for you. This is amazing.”

Jess yanked her hand free and held her finger and ring up to the light for herself. “Yeah, it is,” she said, her voice finally cracking with emotion. The whole thing with Kilgrave had beaten Jessica's already tenuous self-worth into the ground, and it had taken her years to even get a semblance of her life back together. But for the first time since before she'd been enslaved, Jessica sounded happy, thrilled, and just a little confident that sometimes good things could happen to her.

Trish whipped out her phone and started snapping pictures of that happy look on Jess's face. Jess tried to scowl, but the effect was so awful that Trish couldn't help but start laughing. A moment later and Jess joined in, laughing together until they were both crying. 

The giggles died down, but they didn't let go of each other. They stayed together, supporting and leaning on each other at the same time. They'd been each others' rock for too many years, through too many dark chapters of life together. They were there for each other, no matter the cost or time or effort. 

“You're going to have to learn to like white, Jess.”

“Why? What for?”

“Your wedding dress, doofus. Or were you thinking of a black leather dress?”

“Wedding? What weddi- ohmigod!”

“Your wedding. That's what 'will you marry me?' leads to. You, in a white dress, walking down the aisle.” Jess whimpered at the image, and Trish dove in for the kill. “Just imagine how many people are going to be there! A priest up front, Luke in a tuxedo. Damn, I bet he'll look so great in that.” Jess elbowed Trish not so gently, but Trish was on a mission. “The music will swell, the guests will stand...”

“Nooo. Please stop!”

Trish and Jessica were up for hours until the sun started to rise, certain that nothing in life would ever pry them apart. Not even a marriage.


End file.
